This Is So Not My Mambo
by youbetcha
Summary: Don't read this either. Once more, I'm using this as a rough draft for when I rewrite it.
1. Prologue: Maybe?

"'He doesn't know,' Gwendolen said impatiently. 'I had to use quite a few. He lost one being born and another being drowned. And I used one to put him in the book of matches. . .'"  
  
I was lying on my bed. It was late April, I had no homework, and had my head buried in the book "The Chronicles of Chrestomanci, vol.1". Currently I was reaching the end of the first story, and absolutely nothing could tear me away. This was one of the best books I have ever read!  
  
Well, nothing, at least, until the phone rang loud and blaringly by my ear. I jumped and almost dropped the book in surprise. Sighing, I stuck my bookmark in and picked up the phone. "Hello?"  
  
I was quite surprised when it was Talie's voice on the other line. Yes, Talie, captain of the Ponra High School colorguard, in marching band. Why was she calling? Well, Alora had said a few days ago that she was going to be calling. She called Alora already, asking her if she wanted to join marching band (well, colorguard) again this year. Alora had told me of this so I could ponder over my decision and make a final choice.  
  
"Hey, this is Christine, right?" Talie asked. "Erm. . . yes," I replied. "Hey! This is Talie, from colorguard." "Hi! What's up?" Oh, nothing much. Just making my usual calls." She continued. "I've been calling people and asking them if they wanted to join. I called Alora earlier, she said yes." "Ah. . . she told me. What about Nelly?" "Got to Nelly." Talie sighed. "She didn't want to join again."  
  
That made me sigh, too. Alora had been convincing me many times to rejoin this year, but she had stopped with Nelly. For some reason Nelly didn't want to join marching band again this year. She decided she'd rather focus on "other sports."  
  
"So now I'm calling you for that same reason." Talie said. "To ask you if you want to join again this year."  
  
Dun dun dun. Alora was right; that's what Talie was calling for. And now I could put off my decision no longer. I had avoided telling Alora my answer because I was leaning more toward a 'no'. But when it came time to tell Talie, it was harder. I had my reasons, though! Well of course one of my excuses not to join was the fact that Nelly wasn't. If she wasn't, why did I? But my second reason was a lot more evident. That reason was that Mrs. Loren wasn't going to be here this year. Last year, after the awards dinner, she had been fired by Mr. P. I honestly had no idea why he would do that, and was furious at him for days afterward. I cried when Mrs. Loren told me she wasn't coming back next year. Last year, she was the only reason I stayed in! She kept me when others would have failed. So how could I ever go on this year without her?  
  
The last reason also weighed heavily on my mind. Diana had been only the assistant instructor last year, helping out Mrs. Loren with us when needed. But I didn't like her that much last year. She seemed too sarcastic, too quick to point out our faults, and her routines were far too confusing. I just didn't like her at all. And this year, I heard, since Mrs. Loren was fired, Diana and her mother Mary were going to take over the teaching of the guard. That I just hated! I never liked Diana when I was only a half guard member, and as a full guard member, how would that go? I didn't want to find out!  
  
"Um, Christine? Are you still there?" Talie asked, bringing me out of my reflective state. "Sorry. I'm just. . . thinking." I replied.  
  
Could I join? Well, Alora I knew would not be very happy if I didn't. But it was ~my~ decision! Not hers!  
  
"Well, I do have other calls to make, so. . ." Talie was subtly telling me to hurry up with my decision. "Okay," I said. "Yes?" 'Okay' wasn't an answer. It could be, but wasn't.  
  
"Yeah, sure, I'll join." I suddenly heard myself saying.  
  
Wait. . . did I just say that?! I just said yes, didn't I? I just agreed to join guard next year?! I agreed to Alora's urging and Talie's question?! Did I ~really~ just do that?! I just said 'yes'!  
  
"Wow, thanks!" Talie said brightly. "That's smashing, very smashing!" Hehe. . . smashing! That was my word. "The first meeting is Wednesday in the second week of April, you'll be there, right?" "Yeah." I replied, still not believing I said that. "Great! Really great. Well I'll see you there, okay?" "Alright. Bye!" "Bye!" Talie said, and she hung up.  
  
I sat on my bed, my really good book beside me, staring at the receiver in my hand. I couldn't believe that I just said that! I could not believe at all that I had just agreed to join colorguard for the second year in a row. Why, oh why, did I do that?!  
  
Well, Alora will be happy, I thought. She'd be overjoyed that I agreed with her. But still, I had said 'yes'! Last year I had no idea what I was getting myself into. Normally this year I'd say that I knew, except I didn't. I was going to be having a different instructor, and I was going to really be involved this year.  
  
What ever would become of me now? Well, I'd just have to see. . . 


	2. Chapter One

Gym was a very evil class. Especially with the teacher I had. It was the last class of the day and some days seemed to last forever. Especially today, when I was stuck playing four square. The only people on my team who were any good were Nelly, and my other friend Mimi. Everyone else on my team were the super jocks.  
  
Luckily the teacher called the classes in earlier today. I thought that good, because I had to walk up to the high school today. Why? Today was the very first meeting of the Ponra High School marching band.  
  
I changed out of my gym clothes and talked with Nelly and Mimi outside as we waited for the bell to ring. "So, Alora is saying that your first colorguard meeting is today." Nelly said. "Yep." I replied with a sigh. "Are you sure you aren't coming?" I looked at her reproachfully. "Nope. I told you that." Nelly replied. "And I've told Alora a hundred times. No, I'm not joining. I'm doing basketball." "Basketball is in the winter." I retorted. "But I need to prepare for it in the fall." I sighed. I was fighting a losing battle.  
  
The bell rang with a loud buzz, and I could see everyone quick to scramble out. I took my time, trotting down to my locker, flipping the combination, and taking my books. No sense to rush, right?  
  
Well, yes, actually. I forgot that the high school gets out earlier than we do. And they probably wouldn't want to wait for the middle schoolers to get out.  
  
I slung the bookbag over my shoulder and started heading out of the school. Still, no sense for me to rush. They all knew I walked anyway.  
  
I took my time getting up to the high school. When I finally did and stepped inside, I was immediately met by Alora who seized my arm and began dragging me in the direction of the band room. "We're late already!" She hissed. "We don't want to miss anything."  
  
And so it was into the band room we went. The guard was all situated along the back of the band room, as usual, with all the band members sitting in chairs in front. Mr. Piquano was sitting up top, preparing to give his start-of-season speech. I glanced around. All of the guard was there, minus Shelley and Chrisabel because they graduated. There were also three new faces I had never seen before. One of them was standing next to Carrie, whispering to her. The other had just arrived moments after I had. The third was next to Talie, nodding at everyone.  
  
Mr. P clapped his hands, bringing us all to attention as he prepared to begin his speech. Another glance around the band room made me see several people here I actually knew. Over by the trumpets was Li Yung, or Mr. Awards as me and my friend Adi like to say. Li Yung got thousands of awards at the 8th grade award thing earlier this month. He was this super academic genius. What was ~he~ doing here in marching band?  
  
This other guy I knew. His name was Jeff, and he was a friend of mine. Another trumpet player, but still a friend. We would talk here and there, about nonsense things (he was about the only guy I knew who wasn't afraid of nonsense) and he had repeatedly asked me if I was going to the 8th grade semi formal in June (I was).  
  
There was of course Alora's friend in the pit, but she was there last year. And there were a few more people I recognized from my 8th grade class. Not a lot, but enough.  
  
"Ahem," Mr. P said loudly. "I'd like to get started now."  
  
I turned my attention from the random 8th graders to Mr. P. "Now," He began. "First of all, I'm going to start with describing some of what I hope our show is going to be like this year. It's going to be longer than last year's, more pages of drill, more songs, more moves, and more guard work." He glanced at us when mentioning the guard work. "To the colorguard, as you already know I'm sure Mrs. Loren will not be instructing you this year." Fine, rub it in, I thought, scowling. "You will instead be instructed by Diana, you know her from last year, and her mother, Mary." Diana and Mary nodded at us from the front by the door. Nodded a little severely, I thought.  
  
"Drummers, I warn you, Uncle Shmitt is going to have some fancy things for you this season." Uncle Shmitt was the drumline instructor. Everyone called him Uncle Shmitt. I heard the drummers groan at that.  
  
Mr. P went on to describe our show, how we were going to be doing a lot more this year than last year. How ~this~ year, we were determined to ~win.~ I thought we had won a fair number last year, but the rest of the band didn't.  
  
Andre, one of the saxophone players, raised his hand. "Mr. P, is it true that band camp this year is going to be less days but longer hours?" He asked.  
  
Band camp. I shuddered at the thought.  
  
"Yes," Mr. P replied. "Band camp this year is going to be four, well five days. The hours on the first four days will be longer than usual and the fifth day will be only three hours for pictures and such." He explained.  
  
Band camp. I still dreaded those words. Just say it. . . band camp. Don't those words just send chills down your spine?  
  
"Now," Mr. P concluded, after lecturing us for awhile. "We're going to split and have some practice. Guard, go with Diana and Mary. Band, stay here, you'll get your music and we'll start going over that."  
  
"Come on." Said Diana. We all followed her out onto the pavilion outside the school. She got right down to business. "Alright, as you know I am Diana, and this is my mother Mary. We'll be your instructors this year." Mary nudged Diana, pointing at her watch. "Now I'm afraid I can't stay with you today, but I'll be here for your next practice in two weeks." Our two 'instructors' nodded at us, and then left it all to Talie.  
  
"Welcome, colorguard!" Talie said brightly. "My name is Talie, I'm your captain for this year. Over there are Cara and Katrina, or Kat, your co- captains." She nodded at Cara and Kat who were behind her. "Now, most of us know each other already, but we have three new-well, two new and one sort of new members." She indicated the three new people. "We'll all go around and introduce ourselves. As I said before, I'm Talie." "Cara." "Kat." The next person in line was one of the new people. "Amy Lynn." She said. Talie grinned at Amy Lynn. "Some of you already know Amy Lynn," Talie said. "She was with our guard two years ago." ((a/n: Julia. . . Les Mis! We'd better do it when we are juniors!)) "Continue." Everyone went around the circle. I knew most of these people already. "Maggie." "Christian." (The only guy. . . he was still here) "Alisa." "Carrie." Then we came to another one of the new people. "Jocelyn." She said. "I'm Carrie's sister." The two of them grinned at each other. Talie nodded, and we continued. "Alora." "Christine." Now we came to the last new person. "And you?" Talie asked. "I'm going to be an 8th grader next year," She said. "My name's Alora." She said shyly. Talie glanced at Alora. "So we have two Aloras this year?" She asked.  
  
Alora grinned at me and then turned to Talie. "That's going to be confusing." Talie said.  
  
"Oh, you can call me Julia." Alora interjected. Talie raised an eyebrow at her. "Julia?" "Yes, it's my middle name. I like it better than Alora. So can you call me that?" "Okay." Alora-now Julia-grinned at me again. "I can be Lorry," Offered the other Alora, the new one. "Then it's settled." Talie said. "Julia and Lorry." Maggie finished with introducing herself as Maggie.  
  
"Now that that's done with," Talie continued. "We'll start with the basic moves. First, drop spins."  
  
Yep. While last year, when me, Nelly, and Alora-Julia-(I'd have to get used to calling her that this season) were new, we sat in a circle and talked about ourselves for a bit. This year, we just got right down to business. No descriptions, just telling what our name was and getting right started with guard work. Already I could tell that this year was going to be different.  
  
Talie showed us all drop spins (most of us knew it already, but she did it for the benefit of Lorry and Jocelyn, and as a reminder for Amy Lynn because she already knew that), then figure eights, and a few other really basic things. Soon it was time to go, and Talie called us all in.  
  
"Sorry this practice was kind of off," She said. "I was expecting Diana and Mary to be here. But we'll cut it short, you all don't mind, do you?"  
  
Really. Of course we didn't mind.  
  
"Good." She grinned. "This year's going to be a good year. Now let's put our flags away, and I'll see you at the next practice in May."  
  
So we all put our flags away, then me and Alora (I mean Julia!) trotted outside.  
  
"Glad you're joining again?" Julia asked. "Mmm. . ." I replied. "I don't know yet." Mrs. Jeter pulled up and honked the horn. "That's my mom," Julia said. "I'll see you tomorrow!" I waved to Julia and was left waiting for my own mom to come and pick me up.  
  
"Christine?" I jumped, hearing my name called. Turning around I saw it was Jeff, my friend, who was going to join this year as a trumpet player. "Hey," I said to him, waving as he came up next to me. He dropped his trumpet on the ground. "I didn't know you were joining this year." He said. "Well, I wasn't going to. But Julia talked me into it. I joined last year, you see."  
  
Jeff nodded. "Julia?" "Alora. You know, Alora Jeter? We have another Alora joining our guard this year so we're going to call her by her middle name, Julia." "Oh." Jeff stuck his hands in his pockets. "So, you're in colorguard?" "Yep." "You like it?" "It's cool."  
  
This conversation was getting nowhere. "Why're you deciding to join marching band?" I asked. "Dunno," replied Jeff. "It looked interesting." He looked at me for a second, then off into space.  
  
Finally, Jeff's dad pulled up in his car. He honked the horn loudly. "Sorry, gotta go." Jeff said, picking up his trumpet. "See you in school tomorrow." "Bye." He jumped in the car and drove off.  
  
My mom came shortly afterward. "How was the practice?" She asked.  
  
I sighed. "Things this year, I think, are going to be very very different." I told her. "Very different from last year." "I see." My mom didn't really. But then again, neither did I. I had an idea that things would be different, with new people coming in and old people leaving, with new instructors and band people. . .  
  
If only I had known at the time just ~how~ different.  
  
((Is Julia the only one reading this? Come on, chaps!)) 


	3. Chapter Two

BAND CAMP-where you don't know if you're dead, or if you just envy the dead.  
  
My alarm clock had waken me up at 6:30 in the morning. What, I thought, was my alarm clock doing going off at 6:30 in the morning? It was August, really! School didn't start for another. . . well, two weeks!  
  
Practice, then? Sure, we had several practices since that first meeting in April. In those practices we began to learn some of our work (already!) and did drop spins. Lots of drop spins.  
  
Then I realized what this must mean: the one thing that every marching band person dreads. . . BAND CAMP.  
  
Yes, band camp. I dragged myself out of bed and threw on some shorts and a tshirt, then gathered all the stuff I would need for the loooong day ahead. Let's see now. . . one water bottle. . . my dot book and a pen. . . lunch. . . another water bottle. . . what else did I need? Sunscreen, that's it. . . oh, and why not throw in a third water bottle anyway?  
  
I ate breakfast and glanced at the temperature outside. Wait. . . did it say 66? 66! I was truly shocked. 66 and it was 6:30! Perhaps it would not get as hot today as it did yesterday. Maybe it would actually be comfortable!  
  
Yeah, and maybe Colm Wilkinson would tap dance on my kitchen table while singing "Who Am I" from Les Mis.  
  
After gathering all the stuff together for my dreaded day ahead, I waited for Al-for Julia and her mom to come and pick me up. They had agreed to come pick me up and bring me to band camp so I wouldn't have to bother my dad with it.  
  
I didn't have to wait too long. Shortly after I got my things, I heard the honking of a car outside my house. Yanking aside the curtains, I saw Julia waving at me from her car. "Hold on!" I yelled out the window. "Be right there!" I slung the bookbag over my shoulder and trotted out to Julia's car.  
  
She opened the door. "Hey," She said to me, looking just as tired as I was. "Ready for band camp?" Asked Mrs. Jeter. "No," replied me and Julia at the same time, then we turned and grinned at each other. "I am so not ready for this." I said to Julia, leaning back in the chair. "It's band camp. Can we even be ready?" replied Julia, rolling her eyes.  
  
Mrs. Jeter drove us to the school. We reluctantly got out of the car and trudged up to the cafeteria. The air outside was still surprisingly chilly- I actually kind of wished I had brought my sweater.  
  
When we got into the cafeteria, we saw Cara waving at us from a small round table towards the center. I dropped my stuff on the chair and Julia in the chair next to me. Cara was eating a bagel, and Maggie was drinking some coffee. "Well, here we are again!" Cara said brightly. "Mrf," Replied Maggie drowsily. Me and Julia each got bagels and orange juice and sat down with Cara and Maggie.  
  
Slowly the other guard members arrived. Carrie and Jocelyn were next, Jocelyn looking nervous and staying close to Carrie. Maggie didn't say much the time we all ate, just stared into her mug of coffee.  
  
"Hey, Amy Lynn!" Cara said when Amy Lynn came in. Talie came in with her. Amy Lynn and Talie were both very good friends. "Glad you could make it this year." Cara grinned. "Mmm. Yeah." Murmured Amy Lynn. She, too, was feeling the affects of band camp. And in band camp. . . no one is safe.  
  
Glancing at my watch, which now read 8:30, I looked up and saw Diana and Mary come in. "Look," Whispered Julia. "It's the instructors." I nodded. Diana and Mary whispered about something for a few seconds, and then Mary turned to us and shouted, "Guard! Come with me!"  
  
"Mrf!" Exclaimed Maggie, scowling at her coffee. "Come on," Talie said, getting up and motioning for us all to come with her. Maggie sighed and threw out what remained of her coffee. The rest of us (minus Christian because he was late. . . oh what a surprise) followed Diana and Mary out into the hall and then into the band room. Surprisingly, I noticed, Lorry wasn't there. She was at the other practices we had but not this one. Oh yeah. . . Lorry's family had to go away for vacation this week so she would miss band camp. I felt bad for Lorry. . . she'd be missing a lot.  
  
Mr. P was already in the band room, preparing his start of band camp speech. The band was slowly filing in (yes, slowly! Only about a quarter of the band was already there when we went in. And of course we are rushed there while the band takes their sorry little time. . .!) But soon all the band arrived, and Mr. P began his second speech of the year.  
  
"Alright," Mr. P said. "Today's the first day of band camp." I heard groans and other random noises coming from the band. "Usually we're not going to have a meeting in the band room, we're just going to go out and get started with our drill." This was met by more groans. "But today is the first day, I'll give a bit of information of what is going to happen this week." Mr. P went on to describe the week. . . in detail. From today to the long hours of the rest of the week, to the bonfire and the final performance. In way too many details for my liking.  
  
Soon he dismissed us all with a wave of his hand. "Band, get your instruments. We'll warm up and then go outside. Guard, go with Diana and Mary." Yes, go with the instructors.  
  
Sighing, I followed them out of the room. "Flags," Was all Diana said, pointing at a myriad of colored flags leaning against one corner of the band room. We each took a flag (I made sure that the one I got wasn't one of those oddly weighted ones) and followed them outside. Diana situated us all in a tiny little corner, and made us do these abominable stretches first. Stretches that stretched even muscles that I didn't know I had. "Okay, now that we're done with that-" Diana continued. "-we'll do about 100 drop spins to get us started."  
  
100. How lovely. We did the 100, but by the end, my arms were ready to fall off. Next, Diana ushered us all outside. I went out, armed with two water bottles. As we filed out into the back parking lot, I noticed that the air was still surprisingly cool. Huh. Wonder how long that would last.  
  
We got right down to business. The marching block we did was short, very short, and then Mr. P and Nick the Drill Guy all wanted to begin the actual drill spot giving. Already! But checking my watch, it showed that now it was 9:15. We'd only have around three hours before lunch break. ~Darn it,~ I thought. ~I wish Mr. P would make longer speeches.~  
  
Nick proclaimed me "colorguard #7" (each of the guard and band got numbers. . . I was the fated guard number seven. . . and I would be referred to as "Number Seven" for the rest of the season), then gave me the first drill spot.  
  
The morning wore on. The drill spots kept on given, and my initial thoughts of the temperature remaining the same were far off. As soon as it hit around 10:00, the temperature shot up suddenly. The pavement heated up so that we could see the heat waves rising from it. The yellow and white lines burned in my vision. I checked my watch nearly every two seconds. The day wore on, and on, and on. . .  
  
"Alright! Everybody in!" Shouted Nick. I glanced down at my watch for the thousandth time today. 12:03! Hark, success at last! Now it really ~was~ lunch time!  
  
Nick gave us a short speech and then sent us off to lunch. We went in, all completely exhausted. "I'm sunburned again," Julia muttered to me. I grinned weakly at her. "It's a band camp thing." She said.  
  
"My god, Christine," I heard a male's voice say behind me. "Hi, Jeff," I replied to my friend Jeff. I ended up actually going to the semi formal. My friend Adi (a hopeless romantic) even got me to have a slow dance with Jeff. "You were right." Jeff groaned. "Band camp is even worse than you said it would be!" I grinned at him. "Well, it's band camp, what do you expect?" Jeff rolled his eyes and walked ahead of me, holding his trumpet.  
  
Me and Julia got our lunches and went into the cafeteria, sitting down at the guard table. They moved aside to make room for us. I unwrapped my roast beef sandwich, hearing the all around conversations. "Carrie said that band camp was bad." Said Jocelyn. "She was right." Then Jocelyn and Carrie went around to ask Talie and Maggie what they were taking next year for classes. Cara added in a few things of her lunch schedule, her and Maggie grinning over the fact that they had the same lunch period. Julia offered some of her teachers, letting the rest of them critique it. I didn't remember half of the teachers on my schedule (we had gotten our schedules the week before. Me and Julia grimaced over it all together, realizing that we only had lunch together. . . and as we were going to be freshman, we were hoping for more classes together).  
  
Christian got a peanut butter sandwich and sat next to Julia. "Hey Julia," He said in that ever so Christian voice of his. "Want a sandwich?"  
  
"Erm. . .no." Replied Julia.  
  
Christian grinned and looked at the rest of the guard. "Hey, watch this!" He exclaimed. The rest of them turned to look at him. Christian stuck the half of the sandwich to his face. "Augh!" Exclaimed Kat, jerking back in her chair. Christian peeled off the sandwich, leaving peanut butter and jelly stuck all along the side of his face. "Now I'm going to lick it off," He proclaimed.  
  
"Gross!" Exclaimed Cara. "Why?" "Why not?"  
  
Amy Lynn, looking thoroughly disgusted, turned sympathetically to Julia. "I feel so bad for you, having to sit next to him." She said. Julia's face was a combination of horror and disgust. I looked down into my roast beef sandwich to avoid looking at the peanut butter and jelly face of Christian. ((a/n: There ya go, Julia. . . just had to put that in!))  
  
Once lunch was over, we split for guard and music, just like we had done the previous year. But this year we didn't even start with the basics. Diana shoved us all into our box, and immediately got us set doing 100 drop spins, both left and right. By the end of those second 100 of the day, my arms were ready to fall off.  
  
I wasn't even close to Julia when she began setting us with work. Julia was farther away, and I was somewhere near Kat and Maggie. The work she taught us. . . I was lost from the start. With so many complicated moves, I felt like a new person again. I made a vain attempt at following Kat in front of me. I saw Diana's eyes upon me, seeing me not doing the work, and wanted to cringe back. My god, those eyes! She could turn this look on you that could make you feel like the smallest piece of dirt that you march on, the tiniest speck of dust. The way she was staring at me, as if there was something wrong with me not getting the work, made me feel like that speck.  
  
This part went even slower than the drill learning in the morning. Diana's hard work continued, not giving us the slightest chance of a break. Maggie was leaning on her flag and groaning by the time that 3:00 came.  
  
Thankfully (I couldn't believe I was saying this) the time came for us to all go out and go over our drill again for the last half hour. Today band camp was only until 4.  
  
But that was just today. For the rest of the week, it would be from 8-8 and beyond.  
  
We trudged outside, getting our water bottles (my second) and our flags. The band wasn't out yet, of course. But we were! We ~had~ to be the first ones out.  
  
"In a box!" Commanded Diana as soon as we got outside, clapping her hands and pointing. "A marching drill box! Now!" She didn't seem to take it in to any consideration that we had been standing, spinning, and walking nonstop since 8:00 this morning, that we were hot, tired, and thirsty, and about any other bad feeling you could think of.  
  
No. Didn't think of it at all.  
  
Diana scanned us all. "Now march." She said, clapping her hands to the tempo. We marched in a block, forward, left, back, right.  
  
"What was that?" Diana said when we returned to our forward position. "You call that marching? I can see a total of three of you who are keeping your shoulders forward and your feet on step!" She snapped. "And that's just Kat, and Talie. Now, here's an idea! Roll up your flags and place them across your shoulders, like this." Diana demonstrated with Cara's flag. "And we'll march, and you'll have to keep your shoulders forward."  
  
I rolled my flag and stuck the pole across my shoulders. Luckily, I was sure, no one could see me from the back of the box. Even with that year (as it was) last year, I was still quite shy. I'd hang in the back for practices all the time. I never wanted to be pointed out, merely to do my thing and be on with it. You're never meant to see me, oh no, only my flag.  
  
Diana clapped and had us marching again. We marched forward then twisted sideways. "Christine!" Diana barked. "What are you doing? Face front, feet together!"  
  
I wanted to cringe away from her. I hated being pointed out! When she so much as looked at me I wanted to disappear into a hole in the ground. But calling on me? That was worse! I felt my face turn beet red, redder than it already was in the summer heat.  
  
She sighed as we finished our box. "That was pitiful, you guys," She said, shaking her head, while Mary nodded in agreement. "Keeping yourself forward is one of the first things you learn in marching band!" I saw Jocelyn shift and lean on her flag. Poor Jocelyn. . . she was more new than any of us.  
  
Diana looked scornfully at me. "Christine, you didn't keep front at all," She said. "And you never keep in step! Really, how can you expect to march like that?" her voice was practically dripping with disdain. I looked down, seeing other guard members glance at me out of the corners of my eyes. Did she have to keep doing that?! Didn't she notice how much I ~didn't want to be noticed?~  
  
The band saved me then before she could throw any more criticism or embarrassment at me. They filed out and got in their opening spots as Nick the Drill Guy prepared to continue.  
  
The last hour was fairly alright (or as alright as band camp could be). We got a few more new spots and even got a *gasp* break.  
  
Finally, Nick called us in, gave a short speech, and dismissed us. I was ever so grateful to be out of there. I caught up with Julia as we walked into the band room. "Survive?" She asked with a grin. "No," I replied. "Did you see how she was. . . pointing me out? I hate being pointed out." I said angrily. "I think she's okay. . ." Julia offered with a shrug. Julia didn't think that Diana was all that bad.  
  
I put my flag away and joined my mom in the car. I told her (with not as many details) about the horrors of today.  
  
It wasn't until I got home and was in my room that I realized just how much I wished Mrs. Loren was our instructor again.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
The next day went by even slower than the day before. The hours were longer, and Diana's relentless work and pointing me out kept on. Julia and I proclaimed ourselves officially dead on 2 pm that Tuesday.  
  
Wednesday was the night for the bonfire. The practice was all day, so me and Julia were exhausted by the time night fell and the bonfire was to be set.  
  
All the chairs were squeezed into the small cafeteria. It was drizzling outside, so the bonfire couldn't be outside like last year. Instead, the bonfire was on a little braizer (that's a thing where the coal is in a bowl and the fire is in a bowl with it) outside under the ledge. The door was open a crack so that we could get to the bonfire outside under the ledge.  
  
Talie and Cara had all their speeches made. As last year, each one of them would make a small speech about a member of the guard, then call them up to toast their marshmallows. Talie was first, calling up a few people.  
  
Finally, they came to Julia. "Alora Jeter," Talie said. "Alora is now a second year. Who'd have thought this shy little person could be such a good second year? Of course, we all call her Julia now because Lorry, whose full name is also Alora, came into our guard. But Lorry isn't here right now. Anyway, ~Julia~ knows the counts better than anyone else." She said about Julia. "So come on up!" Julia gave me and embarrassed grin and squeezed in between the many rows of chairs to get up front.  
  
Then Cara came to my name. "Christine Vendredy," Oh lovely. Cara was going to be the one making the speech? "It takes a lot to go from spinning on the sidelines to going fully into the guard. It's not an easy thing, but somehow Christine managed to do it. So now she's here for her second year, come on up, Christine, it's going to be a good one!" Cara motioned for me to come up.  
  
I too squeezed in between the chairs until I was up front. Oh god look at all those people! They were all looking at me. . .  
  
Cara grinned and hugged me, handing me a marshmallow on a metal stick (so when I ate it, there wasn't any actual stick inside). I stuck it in the fire and ate it as quickly as I could. Then I went to hug Talie.  
  
And Talie, before I sat down, whispered to me, "Thanks for coming back."  
  
And perhaps. . . perhaps I would be. . .  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Band camp week continued on. Finally the performance, the pre-performance shall I say, came on Friday. After a long week, this would finally be pretty much the last of it. I was ever so looking forward to the end.  
  
When the day ended and the night came, we prepared for our performance. It was raining once again (about the only good thing I could say about this dreaded week was that it rained a bit. But most of the time that wasn't a good thing either because it meant more time we'd be trapped inside with Diana. . .), so instead of the performance outside with our drill like last year, it was inside in the gym. The band was set up in an arc facing the parents, and all of us guard people in a line along the back of them. I couldn't recall a time where we had an inside performance before this day.  
  
So into the gym we went, carrying our flags. We only knew the beginning of the show (and even then not very well) so we weren't entirely as prepared as we should be.  
  
My mom and dad waved to me as they came in. I waved back, grinning at Julia, whose parents came in soon after mine. Both our parents sat next to each other and began talking. Neither of us liked ~that~ prospect all too much.  
  
The show went fairly smooth. We did the opening parts we knew pretty good. Sure we weren't exactly together, but what could you expect, at band camp? After we did the work we knew, Cara's excitement took over and she began dancing with everyone near her: Christian, Alisa, and yes, even me.  
  
After it ended, we all marched out and back to the corner where our stuff was held. Before Diana came to meet us, we all exchanged stories from the small parent show. "You were dancing like anything," Amy Lynn said to Cara, shaking her head. "Well, what did you want me to do?" Replied Cara with a shrug. "I had to fill in the music somehow." "I dropped my flag!" Kat exclaimed mournfully. "During the first song when we do the toss and the parallel. I got the toss but when I threw the parallel it just kind of came down with a crash and dropped. . ." Kat looked extremely angry at that. "Oh, don't worry." Talie said, trying to comfort the distraught Kat. "It's only the parents viewing show. They're our parents. . . they'll think we did a good job even if we drop every toss and forget half the work."  
  
That was true enough.  
  
Diana and Mary came, and gave us a speech to end band camp. I was hardly listening. The worst of it was over at last!  
  
Me and Julia went to find our parents after the guard split. "Well, it's over, think of that!" Julia said to me. "The worst of it," I replied.  
  
"You are too pessimistic," Julia shook her head. "Think of the season!"  
  
But my band camp pessimism remained, and I wasn't going to think that anything was wonderful until I actually experienced it.  
  
As usual, mine and Julia's parents congratulated us and said how wonderful we were. We got food to eat and sat down at a table with our parents and my friend Iris's parents. Iris Orawyn was one of my friends, not as close as Julia, but she was still one of my friends. She decided to be daring and join marching band this year. She played the piccolo. Mr. and Mrs. Orawyn sat at the same table with me and my parents.  
  
I ate and chatted with everyone. Though I did wonder one thing. Last year after the performance I got that adrenaline rush that is just amazing. This year? This year I didn't really get much. But I could think of reasons, of course! It was an indoor show, the band camp week this year was longer and more horrifying.  
  
But one day when all the band members were making speeches in the room (during the day when it rained all morning), they had said, "I see something in us this year. It's something that I haven't seen for two years. But those two years ago I saw it, and it was true. That year, we had a spark in us, and we won so much and conquered so far. That's what I see this year. I see us, as a band, going far and wide and truly being the winners that we are. I see that. . . and I hope you see it, too."  
  
As I looked around, I wondered about that. Did we have that 'spark' the trombone player said she saw in us? Right now, I couldn't see anything fabulous and magnificent about our band. It just seemed like. . . like band camp.  
  
But as I learned, it was still far too early to make ~those~ judgments. 


	4. Chapter Three

Once band camp was over, I figured, the worst of it would be over. Last time, that's how things were.  
  
I was wrong.  
  
It was a little more than a month since band camp that came our first performance. Since that time we had many long practices, and learned new work (though no one really understood any of it). Diana was relentless, and as I began to see, so was Mary at times. But from my perspective, all the fun had gone out of colorguard. It was just a chore now, something I had to do until the season was over and I too could be over with it forever.  
  
But now I just had to get through it.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
~What do you want from me?~ I thought, staring at the thick pages of math homework in front of me. I was barely three weeks into my freshman year, and already I had homework in virtually every subject. The teachers had absolutely no concept of the fact that most freshman were lost, confused, and bewildered. No, they didn't get it at all. And I didn't even know that Algebra 1 was going to be this confusing when it came.  
  
My dad knocked on my door. "Christine, are you ready?" He said in irritation. Today was our first performance, our first football game. It was 8:35 in the morning, and I had all my things together, and was sitting on my floor trying to get some of my homework done before we went. Not to mention I also had an essay due tomorrow that I didn't even start. "Coming!" I called. I closed my math notebook and stuffed it in my regular school bookbag, and taking my marching band bag instead. I quickly checked through it. Good. . . gloves, lunch, water bottles. . . all there.  
  
And where was my uniform? Not here, of course. This was our first performance and the uniforms didn't even come in. So instead we had to wear our theme shirts with black pants. Figures, that we are the only band that didn't get the uniforms yet.  
  
Sighing, I trodded outside into the early morning heat, my bag around my shoulders. My dad drove me to school, where I went inside and into the guard corner. We had our own corner, right outside the band room, where we'd keep all our stuff. This time it was Amy Lynn asleep on the floor, in place of Chrisabel as it was last year. Talie was sitting next to her saying something, mostly which Amy Lynn replied with a grunt or a thumbs up. Julia waved to me and I went over to her. "You look tired," She remarked.  
  
"It's 8:50 in the morning, I've got tons of homework, and I'm traipsing off to who-knows-where today." I replied pessimistically. Julia shook her head. "Colorguard is really great." She said. "And you shouldn't be so pessimistic about it."  
  
It was hard for me not to be, knowing that sooner or later Diana's biting sarcasm would get to me. It was getting to Kat, too. Kat had always been the most emotional guard member. She was the most joyous and happy, the first of us to cry, and the first to get mad. One day, I heard her snap at Diana when she was being criticized for the way she did the work. People should know better than to criticize Kat, just for the fact that she is so emotional.  
  
Diana and Mary then barged in. Diana seemed wide awake, wide awake and not at all smiling. The one thing I could say about Mary that was good was that she smiled a bit more than Diana. She was not as critical, and actually said one day, "I'd like to thank Christine for actually trying to do the new work to the drill." I had given her a fleeting smile, but that bit of praise was soon cut off by Diana saying, "Yes, but nobody still did it right." I felt like whacking my flag right into her face. Did she have any nice words for us, ever? Or was it always just criticism and telling us how bad we were?  
  
"Is the band out yet?" Asked Mary.  
  
"No," Replied Cara. "Lemme go check and see if they are getting ready." And so Cara disappeared into the band room. My guess was that it wasn't just to run an errand for Mary, but to see one of her new boyfriends who was in the band. Cara always seemed to be having boyfriends.  
  
She came out a few minutes later. "Alright!" She called to us all. "The band's heading up to the field."  
  
I heard a sigh from Amy Lynn as she dragged herself up.  
  
"What are we doing about uniforms?" Asked Talie. "Did they even come in yet?"  
  
"No, they didn't." Replied Diana. "So we are just going to be using the theme shirts and the black pants." She turned and walked out the door.  
  
"Flags and up to the field." Mary said for her. We all took our flags and headed up once more to the field.  
  
The practice went okay. It was shockingly short, but that's because the school we had to go to, Wehawic High, was about 40 minutes away. I was still glad when we all went in, although not liking the fact that we had to wear pants on a hot day like this. But this was marching band, what could you expect? We're always fighting the elements, whether it be rain, heat, snow, cold. . . you name it. I laugh when the football players skitter inside the moment it snows, and yet every time the marching band stays out at least a half hour after the snow starts. If the snow stays the same and doesn't increase, we'll just stay out the entire time. Football players, I always thought, were wimps at heart. They would never have the guts to brave marching band.  
  
We changed somewhat, not having that much to change into except putting on pants and a shirt. For once we allowed the band to have the bathrooms for changing. After that, we went onto. . . the bus.  
  
I sat next to Julia for the ride down. She offered me a mini oreo. . . notorious band camp food. Grinning, I took it, and gave her half of my roast beef sandwich. We ate while the band and guard got on the bus, and until the bus began to move. Then we all shoved our food into the lunchbags quickly. We knew it was dangerous to eat while the bus was moving. For one thing, the bus usually made sudden turns and could send you careening into the aisle. Second, band members deciding to change on the bus could hop by you, yanking on their pants and sometimes falling on top of you. That happened to Cara once. She was eating, and a changing band member tripped and fell on her.  
  
The bus went on its way, bouncing along with no care for the changing band members. But I wasn't liking the scenery as we got farther into the town we were supposed to be. The buildings were peeling and covered with creeper vines, and everything was looking collapsed and messy. "I don't like this," I whispered to Julia, who was doing her bio homework. I was lucky I didn't take honors bio this year-Julia warned me about it. She glanced up and outside, wincing. "Is this the town?" She asked, looking at the crumbling graffiti covered buildings.  
  
"Yes" was the answer we got as our bus pulled in to the parkinglot of an old school. Mr. P got off to make arrangements, leaving all of us on the bus. None of us liked the look of this place. It made me nervous.  
  
"Alright, let's go!" Mr. P waved us from outside. I slung my bookbag over my shoulder and trotted outside.  
  
Me and Julia stood there while our bus and the other bus that housed our band emptied. My friend Iris came over to me, holding her piccolo. She was followed by Jeff.  
  
"I don't believe this is the place we're performing," Jeff said, glancing around at the school. "Me neither," Iris agreed. Julia nudged me. "This is their first performance, isn't it?" Julia asked, grinning wickedly at Jeff and Iris, and putting on an air of one who had much more experience. "Tell them about ~our~ first last year." She whispered to me.  
  
I grinned. Thinking about it now, I realized that our first performance last year, when we were little but scared new people, was in a place kind of like this. This place made me nervous, and so did the place we performed in last year. But the place this year just kept me a bit more edgy.  
  
"It wasn't that bad, really," I said to Jeff and Iris. I remembered when Julia and I (and Nelly, too. . . Julia could never quite forgive her for quitting) were new people, mortally afraid of saying anything. But of course with Diana now, I was still afraid to say anything. "Just a bit nerve wracking." I told them.  
  
Iris nodded. She was normally very composed, and not one to freak out or overreact. Iris was a very logical person. "You're telling me." Muttered Jeff, taking his trumpet and going over to where Mr. P was calling everyone together.  
  
Julia, Iris and me followed him. Mr. P looked to make sure everyone was here before telling us that we were going to perform a half time show. Half time? That was odd. The rules went that if it was a home game we do half time, and away games are pre-game. I had no idea why Mr. P decided to do differently, but he was the director, what can you do?  
  
We went inside the field (past iron gates. . . how very welcoming) and into the stands. Unfortunately we had to walk past the rivals here. And they scared me, too. They shot us fierce glares as we walked past, making us seem as if we are the evil opposing people. I was glad to get to our own stand and put our stuff down. It was safer here.  
  
Diana motioned for us to come over as soon as we got settled. She was glancing nervously around her. "Guys," She said. "Normally I'd have us practicing now, but. . ." she glanced around again. "But I really don't trust going anywhere alone." Mary nodded, continuing for her. "This is not the kind of place where we should be practicing alone. Stay with the band until we perform."  
  
Now, if anything should show how bad this place was, it would be this. Diana not making us practice? Now that, I must say, was bad. Now I ~really~ didn't like this place.  
  
Contrary to what everyone believed, we were still alive when half time came. For once our football team was winning (gasp), and the band played often. I still didn't like the evil glares the rival team shot us. But soon it was time for us to perform, and as strange as it sounded I was never more grateful to get onto the field.  
  
We got out and the cadence started, and once more we prepared to perform. The band was actually in uniform and yet we weren't. That made me feel even more odd, marching out there in some sort of makeshift uniform. Everyone, I could tell, was anxious to get this over with. I barely paid attention to the drum cadence as we marched onto the field.  
  
"This place is freaky," Maggie whispered to me in our group. The guard, in the beginning of the show, was split into several groups. My group consisted of Maggie and Christian. "I know." I whispered back. "Are you nervous?"  
  
Maggie grinned in an offhand way. "Not of doing the show." We both grinned as the music started and we started our show.  
  
And how did the show go? Let's just say none of us seemed to remember the work the moment we got onto the field. I managed the best I could, my flag moving clumsily. The second song I actually did okay, but the first song? The first song was just about as out there as it could come.  
  
We didn't have any flags currently except the one, so we didn't have to gather any as I marched off the field. It was an odd feeling for me, marching off the field with the marching band. Really marching off after doing a show, as opposed to scampering after them after ~they~ finished the show, me behind the sideline.  
  
It was a time like this, at this game, that I realized that this year I was really involved.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"You did alright," Diana said. "Alright considering the. . . area. . . that we are performing again. I don't hold any mistakes against you." This was about the closest Diana got to actually praising us. But it was better than, "Wow, you guys really sucked," as she said once. I took all I could get.  
  
The rest of the game was uneventful, minus the fact that we still got shooting glares from the opposing team. No one could go anywhere alone, it always had to be two or more people together for fear that we'd get beat up or something. Looking at the state of the opposition, I wouldn't be surprised if they wanted to beat us up.  
  
I was surprised, however, that about five minutes before the game ended (with our team. . . gasp. . . winning), when Mr. P flanked by two policemen began beckoning for us to come. "Why are we leaving early?" Lorry hissed to me. Lorry had come back to our guard after band camp. Currently she was somewhat in my position of last year. She did the drill she knew and stood at the sidelines for the part she didn't know. But Lorry was learning, and soon she was going to be doing the whole show with us, unlike me last year. Now Lorry was the new person of this year, this year's only 8th grader, but she wasn't at all like shy me and Julia of last year. She was more like the loud and outgoing Nelly.  
  
"I dunno." I whispered back to Lorry as I clambered down the seats. I continued to be in puzzlement of why the police was following the band down to our buses.  
  
"What was that for?" Lorry asked as soon as we got onto the bus. "Why'd we get escorted?"  
  
Talie, dropping in the seat across the aisle for me, sighed. "Because of the opposing team." She told Lorry. "The last time we went here, two years ago, our football team won and they threw rocks at us, the marching band."  
  
What? The other guard members had that 'what?' look on their faces. "So they're doing it to keep that from happening again."  
  
I knew I didn't like the rival team. They were very scary.  
  
But the bus started (quicker than usual), and we bumped on down the road.  
  
"Well, this was an interesting way to start the year." Julia said to me.  
  
It was interesting. . . very interesting. 


	5. Chapter Four

(Thanks to all who reviewed. I just got back from a marching band trip to Disneyworld and it was interesting. . . Julia knows what I mean. Soon they will be younger than us, haha..darn those choir people, keeping us up until two in the morning. I've decided that I'm going to do a separate chapter for each of our competitions this year. While in the last story I could get by with only doing two because most of them were the same, this year each one of them was different so I have to do each of them. Oh well, here goes the next chapter!)  
  
I held up my band theme shirt in front of me. It was gray with our title behind it.  
  
Unfortunately, it was not our uniform.  
  
The first competition of the season was a week later. It was Saturday, and I knew from looking at the schedule that it was going to be a long day indeed. In the morning we had a football game to go to, and then after the football game, instead of going home, we're going to be sent off to Virani High, the same place as last year, for our first competition.  
  
This first was different than the last. My last competition at Virani was my First Competition, my first ever time competing with the marching band. This was a different kind of first. This time I would actually be performing and really competing. This time..  
  
Sighing, I stuffed the shirt and pants into my marching band bag. Our uniforms, would you believe it, still hadn't arrived yet. Diana told us (with much scorn) that we would be marching in black pants and our theme shirts. What an interesting way to start out the competing season.  
  
I packed quickly, knowing what to pack by now. My dad drove me to the high school, and I was once again in the midst of the marching band.  
  
Trotting inside the school, I dropped my bag in the guard corner. Julia was leaning against the wall looking tired. "Hey, Julia." I said. "Hi," she replied tiredly. "This is going to be a loooong day." She said. I agreed wholeheartedly.  
  
I watched everyone as the band filed in. Jeff came in, carrying the garment bag over his shoulder as he stopped to talk to me. "Hey Christy," He said, using my much hated nickname. The only person in the entire world allowed to call me Christy was Mrs. Loren (and Nelly, at times). Jeff, however, was not on that list. But I ignored it and let him keep talking. "Hi Jeff." I replied. "What's up?"  
  
Jeff looked at the sky, then down at me intently. "Nothing," He replied. He paused. "Are you nervous about this competition?" He asked.  
  
"Sort of," I replied. "This is my first performing competition. I wasn't in the show really last year."  
  
"Yeah, I think you told me about that whole sideline thing once." Jeff said. He glanced at Julia who gave a cheerful wave, and Cara who was grinning wickedly at him. As soon as he caught sight of Cara, he quickly said, "Okay I have to go see you later!" And vanished into the band room.  
  
"What was that all about?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at Cara.  
  
Cara grinned at me. "That's your boyfriend, isn't it?" She said.  
  
"What? Jeff?" I exclaimed. "You have ~got~ to be kidding me. He's my friend. We're good friends, that's it."  
  
With a very evil laugh, Cara replied, "Sure, sure." And went into the band room as well. "Where're you going?" Talie inquired, craning her neck to see Cara. "Because we're going to start soon. It's almost nine."  
  
"To talk to Christine's boyfriend." Replied Cara wickedly.  
  
"He's NOT my boyfriend!" I called after her, but by then she had already gone.  
  
"What? He's not!" I said to Maggie and Jocelyn, who were looking at me strangely. I sighed and leaned against the wall. That was useless. I talked to Jeff in school and at practices, and for some insane reason Maggie, Jocelyn, and of course Cara had this mad idea that we should go out. Guard members! Really!  
  
Diana came in, flicking her keys around in her hand. "Is everyone here?"  
  
Talie answered for us. "Cara's in the band room, and Christian is late."  
  
"Christian is always late. Go get Cara." Replied Diana, and Talie went.  
  
Cara came out, giving me another evil grin. We got our flags and then once again went outside into the field, to practice once more.  
  
THWACK! "Ow!" I exclaimed, rubbing my head where the flag hit coming down. Parallels were easy for the older guard members, but since I had never done them before this season, most of my parallels ended in the flag coming down in some weird uncatchable way and smacking me in the head.  
  
Diana gave a sigh of annoyance from her place up front. The band had already gone inside, for the practice was over. But Diana had us practice an extra twenty minutes, because she said we'd "need it for the competition." But of course by this time we were all drained by the heat and close to dropping, so the extra practice really didn't accomplish much. Just lots of banged heads and grumbles.  
  
"Fine," Diana said. "I'll call this practice over. We don't seem to be getting anything done, anyway." She waved us down the hill. "Meet you after lunch break. We have a game to do first, don't forget." She whispered something to Mary and they turned and went down the hill.  
  
I stuck out my flag and rolled it up. "Keeping us up here extra," Kat spat, walking past me. "It's going to be a long enough day already without ~her~ adding anything extra to it." She looked at me, blue eyes flashing. "What do ~you~ think of that?"  
  
I blinked, taken aback by Kat's sudden anger (although I knew I shouldn't be, because strong emotions are just Kat's thing). "I think it's insane," I replied to her query. "She's working us too hard." The last sentence I murmured, looking down at the field under my feet. Talking to a senior, I was! A senior!  
  
Kat snorted and stormed past me, heading down the field without bothering to wait for Carrie and Jocelyn, her two friends.  
  
"Well, that was interesting." I remarked to Julia as we went down the hill ourselves.  
  
"What?" She asked, pushing the sweaty hair from her face.  
  
"Kat. She seems pretty mad at this extra practice."  
  
Julia snorted as well. "I don't blame here." She said. "So am I."  
  
I glanced around at the rest of the guard. Hot and sweaty they all were. . . as well as mad. None of them seemed to be liking the way she's been treating us lately.  
  
We finally reached the bottom of the hill and gratefully went inside the cooler school. I got out my lunch and started eating, when Talie burst out of the band room.  
  
"Uniforms!" She cried.  
  
"What?" Jocelyn blinked in confusion.  
  
"Uniforms!" Talie clasped her hands together. "The uniforms came in today! They are here! Come, I'll give them out!" She seemed thrilled about this.  
  
Jocelyn grinned. "The marching band gods watch down upon us today."  
  
The rest of us laughed.  
  
Talie came out with a big box of uniforms. They were black and white velvet with a silver section in the middle. "Drat, no names." She said, holding a uniform up. "Let's see. . . here's one that'll fit you, Cara," She tossed one to Cara, who caught it deftly. "Here's. . . this one says. . . ah, Jocelyn, here's your name. Lorry's too." She gave them their uniforms. "Amy Lynn. . . this looks like it'll fit you. Doesn't have a name. Same with Julia." Finally, she stuck one out to me. "Christine, this is yours." I took it, holding at arms length to get a good look at it. I liked it. It was a bodysuit rather than a uniform with many parts to it like last year's.  
  
We all ate lunch, and then changed into our uniforms. They were surprisingly easy to put on, and didn't result in the disaster of last year's first competition changing.  
  
After lunch, Diana ushered us all outside and made us line up. ~It sucks,~ I thought, ~That we have a game today as well.~ Now these football people could play their game and then be done, while we had to trek all the way off to Virani High an hour away and perform once more.  
  
Ah well. Such was the life of marching band.  
  
We marched up to the field, the drum cadence helping to lighten my mood. I loved marching up to the field, with all those people watching. It seemed to me that we were taking away from the football people there, and allowing them to see the marching band, the real stars of the field.  
  
The game wasn't as long as I expected. Of course we practiced during the first two quarters, and then we did our show. That's the good thing about home games-we knew the field. But we did our show, and it was hot, but we still did good. Marching band people are a lot more tolerant to heat, probably because of band camp (*people scream and faint*).  
  
But soon the game was over, and we all walked back down. We stuffed our flags into the flagbag and loaded it on the truck, then went inside to sit down for a bit while the band loaded. Or, to be precise, we all went inside and collapsed on the floor while the band loaded.  
  
When we were called back out, we all got onto the bus. Me and Julia grabbed seats together, as usual. Julia took the window seat and I took the aisle. Across from me was Andre the saxophone player and his friend, squished into seats as well. ~You never learn what it's like to be squished until you go on the band bus,~ I mused. Mr. P popped on the bus long enough to tell us we were fine, and then we were off.  
  
The bus lurched, sending a person behind me sprawling into the aisle, which caused everyone to crack up. Julia leaned back against the chair. "I'm tired already." She said. "And I'll probably fall asleep on the way back." I nodded in agreement. "Hey, at least we got our uniforms, though." I said. Julia snorted. We had a little bit of a uniform problem earlier. Because of the fact that none of them were named, Julia got Amy Lynn's uniform and Amy Lynn got Julia's. Luckily they managed to figure it out and switch, but not before all the guard had a good laugh.  
  
The bus bumped along the road. I looked at my watch, which now read 5:15. We were performing at 6:30.  
  
Julia was now looking out the window, and I saw she actually seemed to be dozing off. So I turned around and looked around the bus.  
  
Andre was pretending to be a DJ, making those weird record noises and zipping records. Everyone was watching him while he did his act. He "put on" a new record and made rapping noises with this one.  
  
Julia had awoken and was now looking at Andre. He noticed me and Julia's attention, and began miming. He "took" a balloon and blew it up, tying a string around it and handing the invisible balloon to me. Then he "poured" a cup of tea and handed it to Julia.  
  
The bus came to an abrupt stop, and Andre mimed smacking into a wall. I glanced outside. . . the other cars were still moving. "What's wrong?" Julia asked, peering outside. The bus in front of us had stopped, too. Andre mimed pouring another cup of tea and handing it to me. Julia pretended to drink her tea.  
  
A few minutes later, Mr. P came in. "Can we have some drummers out here?" He called.  
  
Diana in the first seat stood up. "Why?" She called back down to him.  
  
"Because the truck's broken," Replied Mr. P. "It stopped moving. Something's wrong with it. We need a few drummers out here to see if they can fix it."  
  
Oh, so that's why we were stopped. The truck broke down.  
  
Diana looked at her watch. "It's 5:50! We're performing in forty minutes, and we have to practice still!" She said impatiently.  
  
"I know," Replied Mr. P. "But if the truck's broken, we won't get moving until it is fixed."  
  
Several drummers, anxious to show off their drummer muscle and power, scrambled down the aisle and off the bus. Andre mimed being thrown against the wall this time.  
  
The minutes grew on, and Diana grew more and more anxious. 6:00 came, 6:01, 6:02, and we still weren't moving. I could see her glancing frantically around the bus.  
  
Finally, at 6:06, the drummers came clamoring back in. "It's fixed!" Proclaimed one of them with an arrogant grin.  
  
Diana relaxed in her chair, but then straightened again. "We have less than twenty minutes!" She said. "Let's ~GO!~" She all but yelled at the driver. The driver, afraid of facing Diana's wrath, started the bus with an even bigger jerk than before.  
  
We got to Virani High at 6:20, with only ten minutes left before our performance. Everyone scrambled frantically out, rushing about to grab flags and instruments. Thankfully our time was delayed, and we didn't have to go on until 6:40, which gave us an extra ten minutes of practice time. Diana was pacing back and forth in front of us while we did our drop spins.  
  
Finally, in a short while, Mr. P's familiar yell carried over the crowd. "ALRIGHT! LINE UP!" He shouted, pacing down the line in front of us.  
  
"Go, go, go!" Diana said, waving her hands for us to get into that line. We couldn't get there quick enough.  
  
The drum cadence started, and we marched down to the sidewalk by the field. It was the same sidewalk we were standing on at the first competition here, last year. This time it was much darker, and the lights were already on in the field. I could hear the faint music of the other band playing.  
  
"Don't look at the field!" hissed a trombone player, and we all automatically turned away. That was an old suspicion of our marching band- looking at the field before a competition was bad luck.  
  
Diana paced up and down the length of us, fixing our hair and our costumes last minute before giving a nod of somewhat satisfaction. "It'll do," She remarked, and continued on.  
  
I snorted. 'It'll do.' Sure it will, Diana, sure it will.  
  
"I'm nervous," whispered Maggie in front of me. I grinned-old tradition returned. It was an unspoken tradition for Maggie and I to whisper about our nervousness before the show. "Oh, don't worry." I whispered back, just as always. "We know what we're doing, right?" "I hope." Replied Maggie.  
  
The drum cadence started, and we turned around. "Good luck!" called Diana.  
  
Hah. Like she really believed we'd do good.  
  
But nevertheless, the competition feeling overwhelmed me. I held my head high and rolled my feet, holding the cold flagpole to my exhausted body. This was ~my~ marching band, ~my~ colorguard, and no matter what anyone said, I always thought we were good. That was something not even Diana's pessimism could take away.  
  
We marched proudly onto the field. I held my head up to the bright lights, looking for the judges box, then momentarily scanned for my parents. But they weren't there-I had forgotten. They had a wedding to go to today and couldn't make it.  
  
"Now entering the field, Ponra High School marching band!" Blared the speaker. I grinned-I still loved hearing that. The cadence thrummed in my ears as we marched on.  
  
"Split!" Called the drum major. I darted off to the left side, putting my flag at my starting drill spot, then went into my pre-show group, which consisted of Maggie and Christian. "I'm still nervous." Remarked Maggie, looking around. "And tired." She added.  
  
"I'm tired, too." I agreed with her. "But we have to do this, right?" "Right."  
  
"Are the judges ready?" The speaker said.  
  
"No," Whispered Maggie under her breath.  
  
"Is the band ready?"  
  
"Definitely not," I added. We both snickered.  
  
"Ponra High School, you may now take the field in competition!"  
  
The trumpet soloist, Lorry's brother, rang out the first few notes of our show. I watched as Julia's group walked to their flags, and then we went. I stood at my drill spot and picked up my flag, facing backwards away from the field as I heard each of the soloists go in turn. Lorry's brother, Tony, another trumpet player, then a mellophone. . . a euphonium (I love that word! Euphonium! How cool does that sound!), and then at last back to Tony again.  
  
Then I turned around, and our show began, ready or not.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
I dropped my flag from right shoulder down to beside me as the last drum beat smacked. I was panting, exhausted, but I still held my head high and looked defiantly at the judges' box, as if to say, 'This is my marching band, we are fabulous, and there's nothing anyone can do to stop that.'  
  
The drummers began the cadence again, and we coalesced back into our line. By now it was completely dark. All the lights had turned on and were illuminating the field in an odd light. We marched off, and then regrouped by the truck where all the cases were.  
  
Nick the Drill Guy came up. He usually spoke to us after a competition. "That was pretty good, you guys, considering that you just came from a game. It was a long day and you guys did good despite the circumstances." I grinned. Nick was such a good guy. He was always nice and positive, and would encourage people at band camp to keep going. He applauded us, and so did Mr. P.  
  
"The awards are in forty minutes." Mr. P said. "So put the stuff on the truck and then go right to the stands. We don't really have that much time." He made shooing motions with his hands, and turned to discuss something with Nick.  
  
I followed the rest of the guard to the flagbag and stuffed my flag away. Then we all clamored onto the bus to grab our bags and head out. I dug my $5 out of my bag so I could buy a hotdog or something before the awards.  
  
The guard kind of split up. Christian went with his girlfriend, a person who used to be in my dance class. Cara went off who-knows-where, and Amy Lynn, Talie, Carrie, Jocelyn, and Kat all stayed together. We all went and bought some snacks at the stand, then went to the fence to watch the other bands perform.  
  
"Hi," A voice said beside me. It was Iris. "Hi, Iris." I replied. "How'd you like your first competition?"  
  
I got three responses from that, actually. The first was Iris's optimistic response: "It was tiring, but I think we did pretty good out there, despite our circumstances." The second was of Jeff, who had come up next to me and Iris. "I totally messed up the last song." Jeff groaned. "I just drew a blank, and, whoa. There it went. My section did good, though." He remarked about all his trumpets. "Tony did his solos good and so did Lorry's brother." The last response I got was, "Nehhhh I'm tired." Said a whiny voice.  
  
I groaned, knowing who that voice belonged to. Coming up by Me, Iris, Julia, and Jeff, came Squeak. Squeak was a piccolo player, and a freshman just like me. Her real name was Kammy, but her nickname was Squeak. . . her full nickname being "Squeaky the Band Rat." She was a short little piccolo player whose sole purpose in this marching band was to complain and complain. She'd complain about being tired, hungry, thirsty, confused, and just about everything else there was. She was the band's whiner and complainer, and because of this and the fact that she was short and had a pointy face, she earned the title of Squeaky the Band Rat.  
  
Jeff sighed, leaning against the fence and trying to ignore Squeak.  
  
"I'm tired, too." I replied, having had to handle Squeak before. "We all are. That's something that happens in marching band."  
  
"You've no idea," Julia said dryly. Us two year people had more experience than Jeff, Iris, and Squeak. This was their first year.  
  
"I like their costumes," Remarked Jeff, pointing on the field.  
  
"Why?" Inquired Iris.  
  
"They're shiny!" Jeff grinned idiotically. "I like shiny things."  
  
Iris rolled her eyes, then looked at the other band's costumes. "Well, they are. . . extravagant." Squeak rolled her eyes. For some reason Squeak didn't like Iris all that much. I liked Iris-she was one of my good friends. Squeak, however, latched on to me in gym class in the beginning of the year and hasn't let go since. She attached herself to me, and now thinks I am her best friend for life. My best friends, however, had nothing to do with Squeak and certainly didn't want to.  
  
"I'm hungry." Complained Squeak.  
  
"Get a hot dog." I replied blithely, turning to watch the other band with the 'shiny' costumes.  
  
She made another whiney noise, but then Iris pointed. "The band's moving to the stands. Come on." She started following them, and the rest of us followed her. Julia was busy chattering with the guard, and I seemed suddenly subjected to Jeff's attention.  
  
"Would you look at that!" Jeff pointed.  
  
"What?" asked Squeak.  
  
"It's shiny!"  
  
"Psh." Muttered Squeak.  
  
We continued on, Jeff pointing out every single shiny thing along the way. Iris rolled her eyes, Squeak was getting annoyed (oh, big surprise). We got to the stands and clamored up.  
  
I sat down first and dropped my bag in front of me. Jeff said behind me, Iris and Julia next to me, and Squeak in front.  
  
"Christine!" Jeff suddenly exclaimed.  
  
I turned around. "What?" I asked.  
  
"You're. . . you're earring!"  
  
My hand darted up to my earring-it was a small, gold hoop, just like I always wore.  
  
"It's. . .it's. . ."  
  
"It's what?"  
  
"SHINY!" Exclaimed Jeff, reaching out with a hand and flicking my earring.  
  
I laughed and rolled my eyes. Jeff was goofy, just like I was. I was glad we were friends, though I thought it odd he seemed to flick my ear rather than my earring.  
  
"This is nerve wracking." Remarked Iris, looking at the judges' box. "What time is it?"  
  
"8:39." I replied.  
  
Finally, after waiting another 15 minutes, with Squeak still whining, and Jeff pointing out shiny things and flicking my ear(ring), the announcer blared,  
  
"We are now about to begin the awards for tonight."  
  
NOW everyone was tense. Iris leaned forward in her seat, looking excited. Squeak looked tired, Jeff looked. . . confused.  
  
And he was staring at me. Why was he staring at me?  
  
"For group 2a, special awards!" The announcer continued. Jeff's attention was taken from me to the field.  
  
The announcer went on with his naming, until,  
  
"Best music for group 2a goes to. . . Ponra High School!"  
  
THAT WAS US! THAT WAS US!  
  
Wild cheering erupted around me. "BEST MUSIC!" Cried Jeff loudly. "BEST MUSIC! Christine! Iris! BEST MUSIC!" As a trumpet player, he was really thrilled about this. "Oh my god. . ." Iris said, grinning and staring at the field. "Best music! I don't believe it!" Squeak said, smacking her forehead. "That's us!"  
  
The band was grinning with elation, hugging each other and cheering madly.  
  
"And now. . . third place for group 2a, goes to Fenshwa High School!" Next to us, Fenshwa burst into cheering, grinning at us. That means. . . wait, if they got third, then. . .  
  
"Second place goes to. . . Ponra High School!"  
  
No way!!! But it was true. The band started cheering more wildly than before. I joined them, our screams of joy ringing out across the field. That feeling of marching band high came back, and I cheered happily. I hugged Iris, who was grinning uncharacteristically. Squeak was clapping and jumping up and down, her eyes squinched shut in happiness.  
  
"SECOND! SECOND!" Cried Jeff again from behind me, grabbing my shoulder and jumping up and down. "That's US!" I hugged Julia next to me, who was absolutely overjoyed. We were all too happy. . . this was great.  
  
But second! Last year at our first competition, we got third place instead. Third place and best percussion, but this year. . .  
  
This year we had started out and gotten second. . . second, right away, and best music. Second! Already! This early!  
  
As I grinned at the rest of my friends, the elated Julia, overly happy Jeff, even Iris who normally didn't show this emotion, I wondered.  
  
One of the trombone players had said at band camp that "We had something this year. . . something tells me we're going to win, we're going to be victorious, I can see it. . ."  
  
I hadn't believed her then. But now. . .  
  
Now I wondered. 


	6. Chapter Five

((A/n's: Chap-to tell you the truth, our band camp is one week. One week of torture and torment, of course. I'm not making that up, that's how it is in our high school. And the reason I was dying after the 200 drop spins is because this was my second year, and not even that because the year before I hardly did any guard work and stayed up front the whole time ("Behind the Front Sideline" is that story) and therefore wasn't used to it.  
  
Also, to remember, this whole story is based on actual events that have happened. All the people in this story are based on real people. So that guard guy who is always late is a real person, and he's been in our guard for three years. . . and has been late every year. If you know this person, (as Julia does) you'll know that there hasn't been a single practice in which he was on time. So this story is just a fictionalized version of real events.  
  
Glad you liked the Les Mis references. . . I saw that play recently and it was really good, and seeing as I've been listening to the soundtrack almost nonstop those songs are continually stuck in my head. It's a good play. So is "Phantom of the Opera", if you've ever seen that, too. If you haven't, you should. If you have, wasn't it fantastic?  
  
Alright, enough of that. Let me continue this story now))  
Every year, the guard has an annual guard sleepover. Last year Julia and I didn't stay for the whole thing, because Nelly's birthday was on the same night and we were obliged to go to that. This year, however, we did stay for the whole thing.  
  
It was very fun. We did all sorts of insane things (of course, seeing as we are a colorguard and therefore do many insane things). Among those things was something called "the question game." It is a guard tradition, in which each guard members writes down a question they would like the rest of the guard to answer. Then they put all the questions in a hat, and we all answer them when pulled out. One of the questions this year was, "If you could go out with anyone in band, who would you go out with?" Typical question.  
  
It all went around. Cara already had a boyfriend, so she was passed. Julia just agreed with what everyone else said. Finally, they came to me, and all looked expectant. "Well?" Cara said impatiently.  
  
"I guess I'll go with the same as Julia," I answered instantly. Me and Julia usually made our answers the same, due to the fact that we were practically the youngest in the guard and stuck together. "And say Morgan (he was a drummer) and Robert." I shrugged.  
  
Suddenly, Jocelyn lit up. "Jeff!" She exclaimed.  
  
We all turned to look at her. "What?" I replied.  
  
"Jeff!" Jocelyn repeated. "You'll go out with Jeff! I mean, it's so obvious you like each other."  
  
"Yeah, Jeff!" Cara agreed, nodding vigorously. "He's ~always~ flirting with you. You'll go out someday."  
  
This was quickly agreed with by Kat and Maggie. The four of them seemed determined to say that I would be going out with Jeff.  
  
"Ew, god no!" I exclaimed. "We're friends! Really!"  
  
Of course, being that they are colorguard, none of them believed me.  
  
But it was true! As much as ~they~ denied it, it was true. Jeff and I were friends, and had been since the 8th grade semi-formal last year. I couldn't look at him as anything more than a friend. He was one of my chaps, someone I could be goofy around and he would not care. But a boyfriend? Jeff? Ugh! Just the thought of it! We slow danced, yes, but that was mainly because my friend Adi pestered us until we did. "You were a good dancer," He told me. But that, I assumed, was just because I had been doing ballet for some years now and was fairly good on my feet.  
  
But boyfriend? No!  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Dismissed," Said Mr. P, waving us all out.  
  
Aside from being in marching band, I was also in regular band (concert band) fifth period. It was very useful having band fifth because I usually was able to grab the marching band schedule and show it to Julia at lunch.  
  
I took my oboe apart (yes, I played the oboe. That was one of the reasons I was in colorguard, because I could not march with my oboe) and stuffed it in the case. I put my oboe away in the shelf and left the band room, listening while Squeak chattered something in my ear.  
  
"Excuse me," I told her, ducking into the bathroom near the cafeteria. "See ya later." Replied Squeak.  
  
I sighed, leaning against the bathroom wall for a second. What a day today was. I hadn't done so good on my math test, and found out that we were going to be starting an essay in English. Not to mention for my life I couldn't play a new piece of music we had gotten in concert band. And above all, there was marching band practice today.  
  
I waited until the bell rang (to make sure Squeak was gone) before I put my sweater on. It had gotten chillier today that I thought. Cold, I stuffed my hands into my pockets. . .  
  
And felt an odd piece of paper in my left pocket. Huh? What was that? Confused, I took the paper out. ~Probably a marching band schedule I took and forgot about,~ I thought. ~Or a homeroom notice.~ I usually stuffed those in my pockets and forgot about it.  
  
I took the note out, and realized it was neither of those. It was regular white lined paper, with the name "Christy" written on it. Christy! My most hated nickname! Who, besides Nelly, called me that?  
  
Confused, I unfolded the paper. It was a note, scribbled hastily in messy handwriting-obviously a boy's, seeing as no girl had handwriting like that. "Christine-" The first line read. It was. . . a poem?! I read on. . .  
  
The last line of the poem read,  
  
"I know a girl Who likes music and marching band Almost as much as I like her." -Guess Who  
  
GUESS WHO?!  
  
Immediately, my mind exploded in thousands of thoughts, and thousands of emotions. Guess Who?!?! Who the heck did I think it was? The answer slapped me hard in the face like a wet fish-Jeff. It couldn't be anyone else. Why else would Jeff flick my earring (more ear than earring) and point at me and say "ooh pretty" and stare at me during marching band practice?  
  
I continued leaning against the wall, trying to gather my thoughts. Strangely enough, my first thought was, ~Hey, how'd he get that note into my sweater?~ (but I knew it was because I left my sweater on my bookbag yesterday, and since the band always comes back from practice before the guard does, he must have had his chance then). But. . . Jeff!  
  
Now my mind launched into confusion. Jeff? But he was my friend! My friend, and nothing more! And here he was writing poetry, admitting he liked me. What the heck was I going to say? I certainly didn't like ~him~ the same way. Not a chance! I'd never felt anything while looking at him, other than comradeship. What was I going to tell him? How was I to respond? What to do when I saw him in person, at lunchtime and English class as usual? Ignore it? Reply? If so, what? My mind was too many questions. . . too much confusion. That was the main emotion warring within me. . confusion.  
  
The second was. . . I don't know. Admiration, perhaps? Flattery, maybe. I was flattered that a guy would think that of me (even though my hair wasn't "flowing golden brown" as one of the lines had read. . . it was more like messy dark blonde), and write such a piece of (corny) poetry.  
  
But that didn't last long. Another emotion. . . anger. Yes, anger. This note admitted his feelings for me. If I didn't respond the same, it could ruin our friendship forever. And I didn't want a friendship like that to be ruined, not over one stupid note! One stupid crush! Crushes could be gotten over! I felt angry at him for writing this to me. I was not a lovey person. In fact, the only time I felt romance was interesting was when it was in the dramatic context of a play or a movie or a book. Other than that, I was not a romantic person! ~Especially~ not corny poetry. Corny poetry was one of the things I hated.  
  
The bell rang again, and I realized that I had better get to lunch before the evil aides gave me a glare because I was late. Sighing in frustration, confusion and anger, I left the bathroom.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
English came. And Jeff didn't seem to have changed anything. In fact, I don't think he knew I had gotten this note. I came in and sat down and opened a book (as I usually do before English starts), when Jeff came over. "Stop reading!" He said. He didn't seem to like it that I read a lot. "I like this book," I replied uneasily. The teacher came in then (thankfully) and Jeff left with his departing words being, "Check your pockets."  
  
It was the same at band practice. Diana's sarcasm and snapping words was far away from me today, I felt as if I could not even hear them. My mind was far away in its own world of confusion. And I decided I really didn't like this confusion.  
  
As I waited out by my tree for my dad to pick me up after practice, Jeff came up. "Hi, Christy." He said.  
  
"It's Christine, and don't you forget it." I answered automatically, closing my eyes against the tree and trying to block Jeff's voice out of my mind. If I was to sort out my confusion, it didn't help to have the source of it standing right next to me talking.  
  
"Did you get my note?" He asked.  
  
Greaaaat. Lovely. The note.  
  
"Yeah." I replied-such a brilliant response, 'yeah'. So descriptive. So. . . sounding like one in the state of confusion.  
  
"Did ya like it?"  
  
"Guess so." My, was I good today.  
  
"Want me to write another one?" His voice was hopeful.  
  
Ugh, no. Not in a million years. ~I'd rather have Diana rip off my head and throw it into an orchestra pit,~I found myself thinking. But that was a bad thought and I quickly shoved it out of my head. ~Be nice!~ I ordered myself. ~Be nice and act friendly. That's all you can do right now.~  
  
"If you want." Yep, that's what I said.  
  
"Okay!" And with that, Jeff turned and bounced away.  
  
I realize now if I had told him then and there I didn't want him as a boyfriend, it would have allayed a lot more confusion and gotten rid of a lot of problems soon to arise. But at this point, I wasn't concerned about that. . . and my 'if you want' became the very object of the turn of events in the next few days.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
The next morning, I drew my coat tight around me and climbed up the steps into the high school. My friend Adi was there waiting. I went to my locker, and then me and Adi went back down to stay on the steps until the bell rang, as we did every morning.  
  
Adi and I chatted about all sorts of really random things as we usually did. The bell rang all too quickly, and we reluctantly went inside. Where on the way to my gym class (Adi would walk there with me, and then leave to go to her own class) we were intercepted by who else but Jeff.  
  
"Hi guys!" He said, over-brightly. In his hand was clutched a piece of paper. "What's that?" Inquired Adi, pointing to the paper. Adi being a hopeless romantic (and a keen observer) was bound to notice this.  
  
"Nothin'." Replied Jeff.  
  
"Lemme see!" Adi pried the note out of his hands. Jeff mumbled something to her and then ran on ahead. "Ooh, it's. . ." She looked at it. "Christy," She read. "It's for you." She handed the note to me.  
  
I groaned. "Great." I said.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Another corny note." I hadn't told Adi about the previous note.  
  
"You'll tell me after school?" She inquired, now wanting to know about this whole note-business I had glanced over.  
  
"Sure." I replied with a sigh, turning and trudging into gym class.  
  
When I got to my gym locker, I sat down and read the note fully.  
  
"And we talk on the phone, late at night About weird and random things And she tells me about her musicals And I tell her about my school And each night when we hang up I wonder. Will she go to homecoming with me?" -So, will you go out with me? Jeff  
  
Yes, that was the last few lines of the note.  
  
Thankfully I had been sitting down already. Because if I wasn't, I know I would have needed to.  
  
Will you go out with me??? To homecoming???? THIS was what he wanted? He wanted me to GO OUT with him? To HOMECOMING which was like in two days?? This Saturday? And I couldn't use marching band as an excuse because he was in it too and. . . and. . .  
  
If you asked me about that gym class, I could not recall a bit of it. All I remember was my whirling mind of confusion and bewilderment, with "Javert's Suicide" from Les Mis running through my head (well, that was because I was listening to my soundtrack and that was the last song that played. And some of the words were aptly suited to my situation. . . ". . . and must I now begin to doubt/who never doubted all these years?" I had wanted a boyfriend for so many years, and now the time had arrived. . . and I was doubting!).  
  
As soon as the class ended, I changed and ran outside, unfolding the note and glancing at the words once more. They struck deeper into my roiling confusion, into my bewildered mind. Jeff had handed it to me (well, to Adi, and he had seen Adi give it to me) so there was no way I could avoid getting it and say I hadn't received it. I had to face him! Oh, why??  
  
The rest of the day was filled with torment. Squeak got a hold of the note, and naturally her response was to tell me repeatedly that I should go out with him because the note was 'so very sweet.' But I didn't want to go out with him! I couldn't see doing any of that boyfriend-y stuff with Jeff. He wasn't the boyfriend-y type!  
  
Not to mention, I suddenly saw things differently. Ever since 7th grade, I longed to have a boyfriend so I could fit in, so I could be like everyone else. The idea was so fascinating and appealed to me so. And now that time was upon me. I had been asked out by a boy, just like I had wanted! And. . . why did I deny? Why did I shy away from the idea as if it was disgusting cafeteria food I hated? Why did all of a sudden the idea of having a boyfriend lost all its appeal? Could it be the fact that this was ~Jeff~ asking me out? Oh, why all these infernal questions! "And my thoughts fly apart. . ." Another lyric of the same song well-suited to the day.  
  
Me and Jeff's friendship was strained for the rest of the day. I couldn't look him in the eye all through English (though I could tell he was looking at me. . . looking at me very intently), and for the first time this year he did not come to the lunch table I sat.  
  
Marching band practice was even worse. I was continually forced to evade his gaze, and for some *ironic* reason, almost every single one of the drill spots we practiced ~had~ to bring Jeff and I close.  
  
"Christine! Chriiiiis. . ." I heard his voice hiss to me during Tony's solo up front. I turned my face away, pretending to be immensely fascinated with Tony's solo, even though I had heard him play it nearly every day since band camp. During the middle of our show, Tony got up to play a solo on his trumpet. And the place where Tony stood was in the opposite direction of Jeff, so I could easily avoid Jeff's glances.  
  
But either way, I was tired of this now. Tired of his stares, of his corny notes, of his "romantics" if you could even call it that. I had to stop it! I had to somehow tell him I ~didn't~ want to go out with him.  
  
But how could I, the shy colorguard member who never said anything, talk to a ~boy~ like this?  
  
The lyrics returned once again. "Who is this man, what sort of devil is he, to have me caught in a trap. . ."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
The phone rang that night. "Christine?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"It's Jeff."  
  
"What do you want?"  
  
"To ask you a question."  
  
"Ask away."  
  
I really didn't care right now. I was swamped with math homework, which did not help my confusion.  
  
"You know, the homecoming dance and all. . . going with me. . ."  
  
Great. Now that he was asking formally, what could I do? If I said no, well, the poor chap would be heartbroken. But I did not, and I repeat did not, want to go with HIM. My mind whirled quickly, trying to formulate a good response to this, while still sounding logical. . .  
  
"Can't." Oh, that was fantastic.  
  
Jeff's voice replied, "Why not?"  
  
Why not? Let's see. . . I didn't want to, or I couldn't. . .aha!  
  
"My parents." I replied. "You see, my parents think I'm too young to be going to homecoming, so they are making me wait until I am 16. Sorry, I'd like to go, but my parent's won't let me go."  
  
I relaxed. That was brilliant! Fantastic! How could I forget the old "my- parents-won't-let-me" ploy?  
  
"Oh. Well, that sucks." Replied Jeff.  
  
"Yes." I answered, feeling much more relaxed. Now we could talk as friends again. Now I didn't have to worry. Right?  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
We had a football game the next day. I talked with Jeff, feeling glad that I had told him I couldn't go and he wouldn't be asking me anymore. Also, one of his friends was there, and therefore he couldn't really do anything. So I was relaxed. . . for most of the day.  
  
Diana had called an extended practice. After the game was over, the guard would stay an extra hour to learn some new things. Our show wasn't complete. . . and we really needed it to be.  
  
From the moment we reached the stands at the beginning of the game, I saw Jeff's eyes on me. I ignored it-after all, he liked me, and I'm guessing you do look at people you like.  
  
Or it could be the fact that I was in my colorguard uniform, which was very. . . erm. . . form-fitting, shall we say. It was a rather tight body suit. That could be why he was looking at me.  
  
But seeing as it was Jeff, that was absolutely disgusting. His eyes were straying up and down my suit, and the way he spoke to me wasn't friendly, but. . . ~friendly.~  
  
Then, at the end of the game when I was engaged in a deep conversation with the rest of the guard about who the "Super Twins" were ("They had these rings!" Christian said. "And they'd turn into stuff!"), when Jeff came over and dropped next to me.  
  
"Whatcha talkin about?" He asked, leaning his head on his hands and staring.  
  
"Guard stuff." Came my reply. What is it with me and non intelligent replies?  
  
"Oh okay. Well, here's something for ya." He stuffed another note in my hand, making sure to touch my hand while he was at it.  
  
I groaned. Diana waved us over, calling us into our extra practice. The band went down and left, and I trotted over with the rest of the guard, unfolding the note.  
  
Julia peered over my shoulder. I had told her of these incidents the day before, and she was rather curious.  
  
"Gorgeous in her uniform. . . of black, silver, and white. . ."  
  
"Oh shoot me." I muttered.  
  
The entire corny poem was a lavishly written description of how I do colorguard in my uniform. It was quite embarrassing, really. Julia was snickering under her breath at it. Sighing, I stuffed the note into my bag, but not in time for Kat to not see.  
  
"Love notes from Jeff?" Kat said wickedly, grinning.  
  
"Yes, actually!" Was my reply.  
  
I would have said more, except Diana started the extra practice then. And I stood there, doing my colorguard, quite confused.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Jeff called me later that night. We actually had. . . gasp. . . a normal conversation. We chatted about the usual weird things, just as always.  
  
But how long did ~that~ last? Not long at all.  
  
"It sucks still that you can't go to homecoming." Jeff brought up. . . yet again.  
  
"Mmm." I replied, going into my "great, now I have to avoid talking about this again" mode.  
  
"Are you going to be at the competition tomorrow?" He asked. Tomorrow we had our regional competition.  
  
"No, I'm going to skip it, and then Diana will seek me out and chop off my head in the middle of the night and put it on a pole outside the band room as an example of what happens when you skip competitions to the others." I replied sarcastically.  
  
"So you're going?"  
  
"Duh."  
  
"Great." Jeff said, his voice brightening slightly (him thinking I didn't notice). "So I can flirt with you the entire time."  
  
"Mmm." I replied, though I was secretly thinking that I'd like to have Inspector Javert from Les Miserables come in and beat him with that stick thing he always carried in the play, and then chuck him off the barricade.  
  
"So, I'll see you tomorrow?" He asked.  
  
"Unless you're wearing a blindfold." I replied. He completely missed my sarcasm, and said, "Bye!" Overly bright and hung up.  
  
~Oh god,~ I thought as soon as he hung up, leaving me looking at the phone in my lap. ~What have I gotten myself into?~ 


	7. Chapter Six

((Many thanks...I must say, I am quite obsessed with Phantom too. That is my favorite play, my obsession, with Les Mis as my second favorite. I end up using those lyrics interchangeably...because I do it so often. In fact, the main character of this story, Christine, was in fact named after Christine Daae from Phantom :)  
  
Second, you anonymous reviewer, I'd like to know who you are. I tend to like to know the identity, or at least the somewhat identity, of who my reviewers are. You sounded, from what you said, that you actually know what marching band and events that this is based off of. I'm not entirely sure I want that band, the band I belong to, to know about this story. . .))  
  
I hit my head on the seat of the moving bus. "I'm secretly dreading this," I told Julia, who was sitting next to me.  
  
The morning of practice went by in quite a blur. Jeff was staring (gazing, drooling, ect.) all morning, Diana was nasty, and it was quite tiring. But it was short, thankfully, and soon we were dressed and on the bus to Natara, the high school of our competition. I was naturally sitting next to Julia.  
  
Julia knew about the whole Jeff thing. She was one of the first people I told. I told Squeak, because Squeak was more girly than I was and might know of it. All Squeak told me was that I should go out with him--even though I felt nothing for him whatsoever. Julia and Ness (Ness is one of my other friends. She sits at the lunch table with me and Julia) both told me that I should talk to him about it. The problem was, that was very hard. I could talk to Jeff about random weird stuff, but this? This I really couldn't. It was too hard, and I was too confused. I just hoped we did good at this competition, without any falter.  
  
The bus halted with a screech. "Well, like me and Ness told you, you have to talk to him." She said, finishing up her hair (we all had to wear our hair the same). "If you don't he'll think you like him, which you don't." She nodded sagely. "You really have to."  
  
"I know, I know." I said with a sigh as we all got off the bus. The guard stayed together, thankfully, with Diana doing last-minute checks on our makeup. "Get your flags and meet me back here. I want to go over the new work." She said, giving us all strict glares that said "or else."  
  
"I just don't know." I told Julia as we got our flags out of the flagbag. "He's nice and all, and I don't want to lose the--oh hi, Jeff." I finished, my explanations ending abruptly as Jeff came up behind me. Julia sighed. I sighed, too.  
  
"Nice flags!" Jeff exclaimed.  
  
"Jeff, I've used these flags since the beginning of the year." I replied patiently.  
  
"Well, they're still nice. You look nice, too. Real nice." At this point, Jeff's eyes wandered a bit, and it certainly wasn't on my face.  
  
I resisted the urge to vomit into the flagbags (seriously, I was a freshman. What got the idea in his stupid boy mind that I, a freshman colorguard musical obsessed person, would want a boy, especially HIM, looking at me. . . there? Ugh. Ugh, ugh, ugh). For once I was actually glad to hurry back to practice and let Diana bite my head off. At least Diana's head biting was expected, and hardly anything surprising or confusing (only her routines were confusing).  
  
Finally, Mr. P gave the signal for the go-ahead, and we all took our flags and lined up. I didn't even look at Jeff, just focused on the upcoming performance we were. Going over the work in my head, praying not to mess up, the usual. I also didn't look at the field--an old suspicion of my marching band, looking at the field before a competition was bad luck.  
  
"Mark time march and one two three four!" The drum major's voice rang out and the drum's beats struck loudly. I relaxed, but only slightly. While Jeff's "affections" were confusing, frustrating, and annoying, this was now marching band. I ~knew~ marching band, and was grateful for this. I followed, rolling my feet (gasp) and holding the flags proudly as we entered the field.  
  
We moved out, and I stuck my flags in position and got into my group with Maggie and Christian.  
  
"What's up with Jeff?" Maggie hissed to me as we looked down in the usual pre-show position.  
  
"Ugh. He's madly in love with me and sending me corny love notes." I told her.  
  
Maggie snickered. "That's funny, I think."  
  
"You have no idea. . ."  
  
"ARE THE JUDGES READY?" Good. A familiar voice at last.  
  
"IS THE BAND READY?" I wasn't.  
  
"PONRA HIGH SCHOOL, YOU MAY NOW TAKE THE FIELD IN COMPETITION!"  
  
Lorry's brother's solo started. I relaxed now, strangely enough, because I knew the show. Then it finally ended with Tony, and we were up and running!  
  
My flag moved in fluid motions through the show. The moves ran through my mind through the first and second song, perfectly. I even remembered the work from yesterdady! I felt happy as we led into the third song. Continued along, everything was working fine, I was moving. . . near the end of the third song. . .  
  
BANG!!!!  
  
A slippery patch of mud suddenly came under my shoe, causing me to lose balance. SLIP! My legs shot under me, and I fell. . . flat on my butt!!  
  
"OH SHIT!"  
  
That was the first time in my life I had ever cursed. But Kat, who was in the spot next to me, looked down at me in surprise. I don't know if she was more surprised with me falling or cursing.  
  
~GET UP, CHRISTINE YOU IDIOT!!~ I thought angrily at myself. Less than ten seconds after I fell, I shot up again and caught up with my work. But this time I felt tears of shame pricking at my eyes. We were getting to get marked off for this, I know we will! Screw the fact that I fell on my butt, I couldn't care less about my pride. . . but if the judges saw that, they'd take off points! And all because of me.  
  
I refused to cry. I held my head up high and continued on with the show, moving my flag as if nothing happened. I would not cry, that would only spoil my performance. Hold your head up high, for this is guard, and I must be one with the rest.  
  
Then our show ended. I grabbed what flags I could and ran in the line after the guard members. I held my head up as I ran after them, but as soon as we got into our group after the performance I started to cry. I messed up for the entire guard and I knew it. I held my head down so they wouldn't see me, only vaguely listening to Nick's after-performance speech. Finally, after he signaled for the band to leave, Squeak and Julia saw me.  
  
"Christine? Are you okay?" Exclaimed Julia. "Yeah, why're you crying?" Asked Squeak.  
  
"I fell!" I sobbed, now thoroughly ashamed of my mess-up. "And now the judges are going to take points off our guard!"  
  
"It's okay, don't worry. . ." Julia and Squeak both did their best to comfort me, and I stayed with them. Iris came over too, and the three of them tried to convince me that it was all okay, and we'd be fine, our score was good, ect. It was okay, because my friends were being all nice and stuff. But that all ended when Jeff came over.  
  
"Christine, why are you crying?" Jeff asked, looking at me with too- interested eyes.  
  
"None of your business." Julia said, standing between me and Jeff and ushering me away. "Come on, Chris, we have to put the flags away." She shot him a glare before his interest could escalate anymore. By the time we had gotten to the flagbags and put everything away, I had stopped crying and only my eyes remained red. Diana gave us a short speech, not very reassuring, about how we really could have done better. Cara was crying too, evidently she had a mishap. "Cara, stop crying." Diana ordered.  
  
"What did you do?" Asked Kat.  
  
She sniffed. "I dropped my toss," She said. "And I was up front, too."  
  
"That's okay. I fell on my butt during the third song," I told Cara, hoping to reassure her. Diana glared at me. "Don't you start crying either, Christine. That's the last thing I need. Now, come and let's load the trucks."  
  
Sighing, I helped carry the flagbag up to the trucks, loaded it, and then walked down with the guard. The ones up front were trying to console Cara (evidently it took seniors longer to get over their mistakes than me over mine) and the ones I was walking with were just talking about how we think we did in general. We continued walking until we got down by the snackstand to get a hot dog or something, you know, as a guard.  
  
Jeff was waiting.  
  
Yep, sure as Javert's cool hat, Jeff was waiting with his hands in his pockets, looking around. "Hide me," I hissed to Julia, but it was too late.  
  
Jeff looked at me, an enlightened look crossing his face, and ran over. "Hi Christine! Feeling better? You look better. You look nice. How'd you think we did? I think we did good. You did good. Very good. You wanna get a hot dog with me or something? Then let's go up to the stands with the rest of the band. Okay? Let's."  
  
"Jeff, calm down." I managed to say when he let me get a word in edgewise. "I ate already, I'm fine."  
  
Jeff grinned. "You've got a roast beef sandwich in your bag, don't you?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Yes you do." Jeff snatched the bag off my shoulders and began rummaging through it.  
  
"Jeff, stop that!" I exclaimed, yanking my bag away from him and zipping it shut. "Seriously, stop going through my stuff!"  
  
"Aww, you don't mind, do you." He said, ignoring my words in order to drape his arms around me. He was about four or five inches taller than me, so he kind of had to stoop down to do this, and looked like a clinger vine dropped from a height on top of me.  
  
"I'm going to get a soda, then." I said, stepping out of Jeff's arms and heading toward the stands. He trotted behind me quite closely, like an obedient dog at a master's heels. I bet, at this point, that if I threw a stick and told him to fetch, he would. I went into the snack line and got my soda. By then, the entire guard and Julia had been finished with their ordering and now I was alone with Jeff, and some other random band members.  
  
"So, Christy. . . your hair looks nice like that." He said, then yawned. "I'm tired." He proclaimed, and took that time to put an elbow on my shoulder and rest his head on. . . well, my shoulder.  
  
This was getting a bit much. "Then go take a nap." I said, stepping away and causing him to stumble. He looked confused a minute, and then got even closer to me. A band member with a camera walked by. "HERE!" Jeff called to the band member, one of our clarinets. "Take a picture of me and Christine!" He yanked me close to him and took my hand. The camera clicked. . . and my hand went shooting away. "Jeff, I have to go to the bathroom." I said. ~Or I'm going to be sick.~ I held my hand out in front of me and ran to the bathroom.  
  
With Jeff behind me. I stepped into the bathroom quickly, figuring that that would discourage Jeff. Or so I thought. "Christy, this is. . ." He looked around the bathroom, having followed me into it.  
  
"Jeff, this is a ~girl's bathroom!~" I exclaimed. He looked around, surprised, and then ran out.  
  
I sighed, leaning against the wall. "If I had a barricade, I'd push him off of it." I said to no one in particular.  
  
"Stalker?" Said the voice of a bandie beside me, washing her hands. She was from another band, I didn't know which. "He sure looks like one."  
  
"He followed me into the girls' bathroom, and hasn't left my heels since we got off the field." I told the bandie with a sigh.  
  
"Slap him?" She suggested. "He looks like the kind of guy who needs a good slap." She raised an eyebrow at the feet that could be seen through the slits in the bottom of the door. "And he's waiting for you outside."  
  
I groaned. "I know. I got in here to escape him." ~I can't escape from him, I never will. . .~ Came a lyric from Phantom of the Opera, my other favorite play. "But I can't wait in here forever." I sighed, waited a few more minutes, and then decided I did have to leave.  
  
"Good luck!" The bandie called after me. ~Thanks,~ I thought.  
  
Jeff, sure enough, was waiting for me outside. "So, how was that?"  
  
??????  
  
"It was the bathroom, Jeff, how do you think it was?"  
  
"Why'd you take so long?"  
  
"I was talking to a bandie I met in there." He snorted, then grabbed my hand. "Let's get back the the band, now!" He said.  
  
I wrenched my hand away, stuffing it into my pocket, then started heading at a steady trot to the band. I did have to get back to them, so I could talk to Julia and Squeak and Iris at least. But the only problem was that I had this over-obedient dog at my heels.  
  
He followed me all the way to the stands, talking amiably, with the occasional compliment on how lovely I was and how good I looked in my uniform. Finally, I got up in the stands and sat down next to Iris, who had saved me a seat. Squeak was behind me, and Julia was lucky enough to have gone off with the guard higher up. I was kept behind with the person who would soon be known as "my stalker". Only half-listening to Jeff (who was STILL talking), I took out a book and began reading it. He kept talking for about five minutes more before he realized I was reading, and then grabbed my book and tried to tug it out of my hands. "Christy, stop reading!" He exclaimed.  
  
"Release the book now," I said coldly. "Or face the consequences." I loved reading, and no one touched my books without my consent. Iris, who loved books as well, nodded her approval. Iris also wasn't much on boys. She hadn't had a crush in her life, and she didn't exactly approve of crushes, either. When I first told her about Jeff's love notes, she rolled her eyes at me. Iris didn't really like romance unless it was in books.  
  
Jeff blinked, surprised, muttered, "Sorry," and then resorted to just draping his arm around me again. I ignored it and went on reading, thankful that I could read through anything. He yawned, and rested his head on my shoulder. I ignored it, and kept reading. It wasn't until his head began getting a bit too close to mine that I said in annoyance, "Jeff, I'm reading, go away." He shrugged, and took out a notebook of his. ~Lovely, the notebook.~ I thought dryly. The same notebook that he wrote the love poems out of. ~If he writes another one, I'm going to sit over by the OTHER band.~ I thought viciously, buring my head further into the book. Jeff took out a pen and began writing.  
  
"Hey Chris, come up a moment." It was Squeak, behind me. She motioned for me to lean in closer to her. "Chris, what's Jeff doing?" She whispered.  
  
"He's been following me since we got back from the truck. He's been all over me, too."  
  
"So I see." Squeak whispered back. "Did you talk to him?"  
  
"How can I, with all these people around? Plus, we were really good friends before. . . the note."  
  
"Yeah, true. But you--"  
  
"Hey guys, whatcha talking about?" Jeff's inquiring head popped up between mine and Squeak's. I sighed, getting seriously tired of this. Jeff grabbed my hand and yanked me back down. "Lookit what I wrote!" Jeff was big on writing these dialogues between his fictional characters. He tapped a line with his pen.  
  
"Frank comes over and kisses Christine," It read. "That's what I'd like to do." He thought.  
  
I buried my head back in my book fast as to not be sick. ~My God, does he never give up?~ I wondered. Now I was becoming frustrated and confused. I hated this. Sure, I wanted a boyfriend, but. . . "the world I have known/is lost in shadows. . ." (Javert again). . . this was too much. I didn't want a boy getting touchy-feely with me. . .only three days after he told me he liked me. This was too much, too fast, and I felt I'd do something drastic if he kept it up.  
  
The rest of the day continued along the same path. He'd keep trying to hold my hand, kept putting his arms around me, leaning his head on me, and writing more "romantic" things in that book of his. By the time awards were going to be called, I was going out of my mind.  
  
Finally, I heard the judges' voice call, "We are going to be giving out the awards shortly." Our drum major and field captain had departed already, and Talie was now following after them. I allowed myself to relax slightly--if awards were soon, then it meant we'd get out of here soon.  
  
Sure enough, about five minutes later they proclaimed that they were going to start with the awards. Now I could, for a bit, ignore Jeff and think of my marching band. I sat up straight, the thrill of waiting for our score filling me. Iris next to me looked at the field in anticipation. Finally,  
  
"Second place goes to. . . Milna High School!"  
  
Me and Iris looked at each other. There were only two marching bands competing in our group today-us and Milna. If Milna got second. . . nah. . .  
  
"First place goes to. . . Ponra High School!"  
  
IT DID! IT DID!!!!!  
  
Almost immediately, the marching band high rushed through me and sent me into exhiliration. Me and Iris screamed and jumped up and down, cheering our high school on wildly. Squeak behind me literally had her eyes squeezed shut, she was cheering so hard. Me and Iris hugged each other in enthusiasm, exclaiming in turn, "We won!! We beat them!!"  
  
"What, I don't get a hug?" Interrupted Jeff, cutting into my high. I turned, fixing him with the briefest sharp glare, before turning my attention back to the field for further awards.  
  
"Special awards, now. Best marching goes to...Ponra High School!"  
  
More screaming and wild cheering. I was surprised that Iris got this far into it. She was normally a shy, reserved person. . . but then again, marching band brings out the wildest in you.  
  
For our efforts that day, we left the field with first place, best marching, best music, best percussion, and best overall effect. With each of those brought us applauding, screaming, cheering, and just about everything else you could think of. I, and the rest of the guard, too, was very indignant about one thing--we didn't win best guard. Now, I thought compared to the *other* high school's guard, we were pretty good. Our show was more sequenced and such. . . but it could be because our show wasn't finished yet. Nearly, but no. I saw Kat's eyes flashing at the judge when he gave the best guard award to the other high school.  
  
But even though Kat (and most likely Talie) was mad at that, it made me laugh. . . the other high school only got ~two~ trophies. We got ~five~.  
  
The drum major, field captain, and Talie all came to the fence to salute the band, and indicated for us to run down. We all scrambled off the bleachers in excitement to meet them. Sure enough, it seemed what I had predicted. The field captain Tony was holding the trophy over his head and all but running around with it, and Talie was looking serious. She had a slight smile, like she was glad we won, but you could tell that not getting best guard got to her. Diana, I couldn't tell. But I knew that even if she ~wasn't~ disappointed in us (fat chance), that she'd make us practice our butts off until the next competition.  
  
"We did good!" Jeff exclaimed next to me (he had followed me down while I was talking to Iris). He grabbed for my hand again, and took it. I yanked my hand out of his, turning away. ~Don't ruin this,~ I thought. ~Not now.~ I loved marching band highs, as Julia can well tell you.  
  
"What's wrong? Jeff asked. "Are you okay? What's wrong? Tell me!"  
  
I continued to look away, talking to Iris instead. We were talking about names, for some reason. "I like my name as it is," I told her when she asked me how I felt about it. "I just wish that people wouldn't call me Chrissy or Christy. Makes me sound like a cheerleader."  
  
Iris snickered. "My name's okay," She replied. "Just short. I wish it were longer." Jeff didn't hear Iris's response, only mine.  
  
"I love your name," he said to me. "You have such a lovely name, what's wrong with it?"  
  
"Nothing," I said, turning my head away from his stare and congratulating the people on the field.  
  
"I think you have a great name." He took my chin in his hands and forced it to look at him. "What's wrong?"  
  
I couldn't stand it anymore. Something inside of me was near to snapping altogether, with his hands hard on my chin forcing my face to look at his, my eyes to meet his over inquiring ones, and his own eyes straying over my body. We were freshman, and ~I didn't want this!~  
  
I yanked my head away as hard as I could. Julia had come up near Iris, and she could see me. She said later that the look on my face was "of, I dunno, confusion, anger, like you were trapped, scared, and all of that." Thankfully, Julia pointed and said, "Come on. We should rejoin the guard, they'll be wanting to talk to us, no doubt."  
  
I smiled at her gratefully. I was extremely thankful for her at that moment. Jeff started to follow, but Julia said, "Are you in colorguard?"  
  
"No," he replied.  
  
"Then you can't come." And she dragged me way ahead of the crowd to where Kat, Jocelyn, and Carrie were walking. "Let Chris go in front, she has. . . a boy after her," Julia said.  
  
"Jeff?" Inquired Jocelyn innocently.  
  
"Has been following me around all day," I told her, letting Julia lead me to the front of the crowd. Jocelyn winced, evidently she knew what it was like to have an over-interested boy. We talked about the competition, our wins, and the fact that we didn't get best guard all the way to the bus. Thankfully once more, Jeff was on the other bus. I got in and collapsed in a seat near Julia.  
  
"I saw it all day," She confessed. "The way he was touching you, trying to get you to kiss him, looking at you, following you. . . but I had to save you back there, when we were by the fence. The look on your face when he took your chin. . . I never saw that on you before." She said. "I had to do something."  
  
"This has gone too far," I said. "All over a stupid note. All because of a dance last year." I had figured that Jeff's crush on me started when my friend Adi made us dance at the eighth grade semi formal. If I hadn't danced there, I realized, none of this might have happened. If I had lost the note, perhaps I could have at least delayed it.  
  
Until when? Could I imagine in those months until championships being followed around by an adoring boy? No, I couldn't. Today was bad enough. It was so bad it. . . ruined the marching band high. And that's something you just don't do.  
  
"I'm going to talk to him." I told Julia, my resolve firmed. "I have to tell him this. It can't go on forever."  
  
Julia nodded at me. "Good." She said. "Make sure you tell me first what you say, before you tell Squeak. You know how fast it'll spread if ~she~ finds out any more than she already knows." Julia rolled her eyes. I rolled mine in agreement.  
  
The bus pulled away from the parkinglot, and it was another competition over. One that I knew I wouldn't soon forget. . . with Jeff's over- attentions (he later became known by my friends as "my stalker") and the wins we had, the triumphant wins, dulled by a boy. A stupid boy.  
  
But hey, this was marching band after all, and nothing could be expected to stay the same for long. 


End file.
